Chapter III
iii
too pale, eyes too big but also for a moment, I think there are three of them—him—so I don’t know what I’m thinking at all.
I’m hardly thinking, spiralling, because I can’t move my legs from under the crumpled mess that is the front of the car and I thought that the whole point of that was to stop people in the car from getting so injured, but that hasn’t helped me now, has it?
I whimper and he shifts next to the window, eyes sweeping over me. My head feels heavy. I drop it back against the headrest and blink up at the night sky.
Dark, so dark. Stars like pinpricks in the distance.
I’m going to die here. Here, like this, in this car with this stranger over something stupid, and every breath hurts, jabbing pains radiating from my side that only intensify when the stranger reaches over and takes one of my hands in his.
Name? I don’t hear the first part of the question. That’s okay. I don’t need to answer. I don’t think I can. All I can taste is my own blood. My face burns too, but I can’t think about that for too long.
Tell me your name. Firm. I roll my head to one side, whimpering at the pain even that movement brings.
He’s got some kind of accent, something I can’t place, something that’s barely there at all.
Doesn’t matter. His voice is low, warm, soothing, eyes so wide and dark that I might just trip and fall right into them.
Might not hurt to die like that. Not like this. This fucking hurts.
I push my name out past broken teeth and bloodied lips, and he grips my hand even harder.
Grant. Hold on. Let me—
And he does something, something impossible, because one minute the car door is there and then I hear a terrible screech of metal and it’s gone, tossed behind him into the field like it weighs nothing at all.
I breathe faster, chest rising and falling, and the pain is building, panic rising so thick and fast it might choke me.
He comes back, and I know at least not to flinch away, though I’m not sure I want to. He places a gentle hand on my chest and I like the weight of it even as more of my strength slips away.
Dark eyes open again. When did he close them? Did I close mine? I’m tired now. I want to sleep. If I sleep, this might all be better when I wake.
I can’t fix this. Despair chokes off his words, but his touch on me is nothing but gentle. I can do something else. Let me help you. Let me